


unharrowed

by foundCarcosa



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-28
Updated: 2014-03-28
Packaged: 2018-01-17 09:03:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1381714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foundCarcosa/pseuds/foundCarcosa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alain meets his demon in the Fade... or perhaps he meets the key to the truth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	unharrowed

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a headcanon by flamesofandraste on tumblr.

The faces of the First Enchanter and the templar officers shimmered and faded, and mercurial landscape spread out from beneath his feat like a spiderweb crack in a windowpane; structures shot up and took form, ground melted and shifted and swelled and gave way, buildings rose and fell and his brain seemed to pulse in his skull as the Fade sunk its tendrils in and drank deep and came to life.

For Alain, there was no Black City in the distance, the way the devout Andrastians claimed — an everpresent reminder of their original sin. His unreachable summit, always visible but never to be touched, was less identifiable. Sometimes it was an unremarkable but comfortable farmstead, sometimes it was a warmly-lit hovel, sometimes it was an unseen lover’s arms spread wide to welcome him.

Alain’s unreachable summit was _home._

But there was no time to dwell on that — he was here to be Harrowed, and back in the Chamber the templars waited with their gauntleted hands on their sword hilts, waiting for him to fail.

He squared his shoulders and stepped into the shifting landscape, partly swamplike and partly crystalline, and sought his trial.

When the demon came, it was small, and took no solid, recognisable form. He had no expectations for its appearance, nothing for it to grasp. It shimmered and undulated, like a magelight, pulsing with the words it spoke.

"Mage," it spoke, and it seemed to be weeping. "I have waited so long for you."

"For me?" Alain repeated stupidly.

"Yes. I am so lonely here… there is nothing for me to see, nothing to love… I wish to be home."

 _A good test, indeed,_ Alain thought, pleased with himself for figuring it out so quickly. Of course a demon would seek to appeal to his sympathetic nature, because that’s what sort of mage he was. Cunning, but Alain was ready. He’d been taught well.

"I will not let you possess me, demon," Alain responded with the confidence of over a decade of hard instruction.

"Demon?" the spirit repeated, with a wash of sorrow. "Yes… they said that’s what you’d call me. The others, they said I’d never find home. They said I was… damned. Forever. Until I faded away completely, and became… no one. Just mana, to feed the Fade.  
Please… kind mage… listen to me. _The Chantry is wrong.”_

Alain struggled with himself, turning away and squeezing his eyes shut. Those last words rang like clarion bells in his mind. _No, I mustn’t listen… it’s only trying to tempt me, to bend me to its will!_

"The Chantry seeks to control what it does not understand. It does not have your best interests at heart…"

"Stop talking, demon!"

"Magic is a gift from the Maker, a way to touch Him, to be His agent, to bring His light and power to the earth since He has been pushed so far away from it. And we spirits are only looking to touch His holy creation one more time, to see His face…"

"I said _stop talking!”_

"Please, child of the Maker, you must listen! The mage Andraste did not die for this!"

"The… did you just say…"

"There is so much I would teach you, so much the Fade has to offer to a strong young mage like you. Let us be joined. The Chantry’s Maker is blind and mute. I would show you the Maker in all His glory, and you will give me… a home, and life, sweet life, once more."

"They will kill me," Alain whispered, feeling damned even as he said the words. "As soon as they see I’m not alone, they will kill me."

"They only kill abominations, sweet mage — those who are ill-joined. We will not be abominable in our disharmony. We will be radiant in our unity."

—

Alain surged back into his body with a heaving gasp and a lurch, and with him came the spirit, like a warm flood of mana into his brain and veins and heart. His body did not warp and twist with the intrusion, nor did violence and rage fill him. The spirit quieted his heart, calmed his mind, and he looked up and around him with new eyes.

The templars relaxed, one by one, hands falling away from sheathed weapons. The First Enchanter smiled, sighing in relief, and Alain smiled back.

"Congratulations on your successful Harrowing, Alain."

 _I can see,_ the spirit exulted, a swell of joy in the formerly-vacant recesses of his mind. _I can see, and hear, and be! Maker! To be alive!_


End file.
